


Are You OK, Michael?

by ChunnelTom



Category: General Hospital (TV 1963)
Genre: LGBTQ Themes, M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-08
Updated: 2021-02-08
Packaged: 2021-03-14 05:21:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29290503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChunnelTom/pseuds/ChunnelTom
Summary: A Chase/Michael scene. I wrote this back in December based on a scene they had with each other where they were fighting in the locker room at the gym and it was very hot.
Relationships: Harrison Chase/Michael Corinthos III
Kudos: 1





	Are You OK, Michael?

Michael’s breath was warm on Chase’s neck. Their bodies separated as Chase sank to the floor and Michael lowered his knee.  
“It would have been a lot worse if you hadn’t taken that breath.”  
Chase grabbed his abdomen as he struggled to his feet. Michael standing above him, the smirk of victory on his face. Chase was hurt. He understood that Michael felt betrayed by the lies he and Sasha told him to get him to marry Willow. But couldn’t Michael see that Chase was just looking out for Wiley’s best interest?  
“Low blow, Michael,” said the detective. Michael had left the locker room. He couldn’t stand to see Chase’s puppy dog eyes looking woundedly at him any longer. He went straight for the punching bags and unleashed a furious succession of punches.  
Chase sat on the bench in the locker room and collected his breath. He could hear the sound of each hit to the bag in the next room. Womp. Womp Womp. He didn’t get it. Just a few months ago he and Michael had been best friends. Chase genuinely cared about Michael, and that was why he did what he did. Didn’t Michael get that? What had changed?  
Willow, Chase thought. When Chase was with Willow, Michael had no problem with him. But now, Michael was married to Willow, they were raising Wiley together, and he probably had real feelings for her too. Michael couldn’t stand the fact that Chase would be so bold as to tell her how he felt. Chase still loved Willow, and now that Janelle was gone, he saw no reason to keep quiet about it. Except that he could see what it was doing to Michael. Or rather, he could hear it. Womp. Womp.  
Chase walked over to his locker and opened it. He saw his shirt sitting there, then closed the door again. He didn’t need a shirt to work out. Womp. Chase decided to do his push ups where he knew Michael could see him, to remind him that Chase was a nice guy, but he wasn’t a pushover.  
The sight of the shirtless detective pushing up off the ground in his tight gym shorts made Michael even angrier. He couldn’t pinpoint why. He just hit the bag harder and harder. All the rage that he kept suppressed throughout the custody suit and Nelle’s machinations, he channeled into each punch. Chase had been his friend. His friend. Someone he could count on when things got tough. He was angry at his mom for keeping the secret too, but at least he knew his mom had a warped sense of the truth and what was right. Womp. But Chase? He was a stand up guy. He pictured Chase confessing to Willow that it had all been a mistake. The idea of them kissing in the Quartermaine den made Michael struggle to breath. It was like his brain was rejecting the mental image and causing his body to tense up as a result. It was all he could do to not run over to him and…  
… Michael must have passed out. He was lying on the grimy floor of Volvonino’s when he came to. The harsh glow of the overhead light disoriented him. But, when he got his bearings, there he was, bathed in light. Chase had always been there, Michael had realized, through the whole Wiley saga. Just as much as Willow had been. Chase was a comfort to Michael then, and he was willing to let him be a comfort again. Chase put his hand in Michael’s and his other one behind Michael’s opposite shoulder, and helped him to his feet. Michael was a little uneasy standing, so Chase let him lean him on his chest. His sweaty, muscular chest, Michael couldn’t help but notice, even in his dizzy state. He walked Michael over the locker room, where he gently sat them both down on the bench.  
“You overdid it,” said Chase.  
“I’m sorry,” said Michael. His head was still spinning. He could feel Chase’s heart beating in his chest, which made him feel safe. As if Chase’s good heart could heal Michael’s innermost pain.  
“What was that?” said Chase. Michael didn’t say anything for a minute.  
“I was angry,” he said.  
“About what?”  
“I don’t know,” Michael said. He was feeling well enough to pick his head up, but he kept his body touching Chase’s, like holding onto a security blanket. “I just get angry sometimes. All of the time, really. And it’s nothing in particular that triggers it, it’s just like it's inside of me and I don’t know what to do.”  
“I didn’t know you felt this way,” said Chase.  
“Usually I can keep it inside. But today, seeing you, I couldn’t.”  
“Why not?”  
“I don’t know, Chase. You… You do something to me.”  
Chase watched Michael struggle to find the right words. Earlier, he just thought Michael was being a jealous, entitled jerk. But now he saw that Michael was really hurting. Struggling with something far deeper than just anger over Willow.  
“I make you angry,” said Chase. Michael shook his head.  
“You make me feel things,” said Michael. He looked down at the ground.  
“I make you feel things?” said Chase. He was smiling that sunny grin of his, almost a laugh but not quite. Michael didn’t even have to look at him to know he was doing it. He smiled too.  
“You’re my friend, Chase. I miss you being my friend,” said Michael.  
“Oh, Michael. I’m always going to be your friend,” said Chase. He could see the color return to Michael’s face as he said these words of encouragement, so he gave Michael a pat on the shoulder and kissed his forehead.  
“I better go. Are you going to be OK?” said the detective. He rose from the bench. He never imagined he would see Michael, the put-together CEO and scion of Port Charles’ most powerful families, looking so vulnerable, so hurt. He hated seeing Michael like that, and all he wanted to do was take away the pain but he didn’t know how.  
“I’ll be fine. Thanks again, friend,” Michael, still sitting, still looking down. A few kind words and peck on the forehead from Chase and Michael’s mood had flipped entirely. He sat there on the bench, dumbstruck and full of hope.  
…  
In the following days, Michael felt like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. Nothing had been resolved, but nevertheless he ambled through Port Charles like it was springtime, though it was the middle of winter. What Willow would decide was out of his hands, but he knew that no matter what, Wiley would be cared for and Chase would always be his friend. That’s what he had said, right? In the locker room? Always - he used that exact word, hadn’t he? Michael thought about that conversation often. He had said always, right before he kissed his sweaty forehead. This knowledge reassured Michael, and his heart felt light thinking of Chase in his back pocket, someone he could count on and tell anything to.  
One night, after Wiley had been put to bed and all the good TV had been watched, Michael kissed Willow’s cheek, said goodnight, and went to his room. He took off his clothes and paced the floor beside his bed. For once, he wasn’t anxious about anything in particular, and his footsteps carried a restlessness in them. He sunk down into his bed and scrolled through the photos in his phone. He came across one of him standing between Chase and Willow. Sasha had taken it, at Charlie’s Pub about a year earlier. Michael stared at the photo for the better part of an hour. He masturbated and then fell asleep.  
On Saturday, when he walked by Kelly’s, Michael contemplated going in and buying a coffee, but he decided against it. The energy boost he normally got from caffeine he had naturally today. So, he went back to the Quartermaine family manse, where he was told by Monica that Willow had taken Wiley to a class. He sat on the couch and wondered what to do with himself. Isn’t it odd how contentedness and boredom are so closely related? He decided he ought to pay his pal Chase a visit at his apartment and see what he was up to.  
Chase, for his part, was having a less than ideal Saturday. His coffee maker had not been working, so he spent a few aggravating hours fixing it before he could start his day in earnest. Though optimistic by nature, Chase was occasionally prone to letting the stress of little things, like a broken coffee maker or no hot water for the shower, affect his entire mood. He’d only just stepped out of the shower and into a pair of black boxer briefs when there was a knock at the door. He contemplated making the person on the other side wait while he changed, but then he figured that would not be polite. So, he answered the door half-naked.  
Michael was unprepared for such a sight. The tiny drops of water still on Chase’s body gleamed in the daylight - his glistening abs and hulking thighs on display. Michael tied to avert his eyes, his pulse was racing, and his cheerful disposition began to slowly fade.  
“Michael, what is it?” said Chase.  
“Oh, sorry. It’s nothing, I just came to see if you wanted to hang or something.”  
“I can hang,” said Chase. He stepped aside and let Michael into the apartment. Michael moved directly to the couch and took a seat.  
“Beer?” said Chase.  
“Sure,” said Michael. He looked down at his feet.  
Chase disappeared into the kitchen and returned holding two bottles. He hadn’t put on any more clothing. He sat on the opposite end of the couch from Michael.  
“I’ll be fine if you need to go get dressed,” said Michael.  
“No, I’m cool like this,” said Chase. At this comment, Michael shot up from his seat and turned to the window.  
“Man, what’s your problem?” said Michael.  
“Michael, what are talking about?” said Chase. He was perplexed and turned his head to see his friend.  
“You’re always doing this,” said Michael.  
Chase could see that Michael was getting upset, so he put his beer down and got up and walked toward Michael.  
“What’s wrong? Why are you getting angry again?”  
“I don’t know. I’m sorry. I don’t know. It’s stupid.” Michael became visibly flustered when Chase approached him.  
“Don’t worry. It’s fine, Michael. What is it?”  
“It’s you, Chase. Godammit, you’re like an underwear model!”  
Chase laughed and cocked his eyebrows.  
“Am I making you uncomfortable?”  
Michael paced from the window to Chase and back again.  
“You’re making me-,” he cut himself off. He put his hands in his head. Chase walked over to him and put his hand on Michael’s shoulder. Michael could feel the heat of Chase’s body. He was reminded of the other day at the gym, at how angry he allowed himself to get, and how relieved he felt after talking to Chase.  
“Screw it,” said Michael. In one motion, he lifted his head up and moved toward Chase, kissing him. Chase’s lips were surprisingly receptive, but after only a few seconds, the detective removed himself from Michael’s embrace.  
“What are you doing?” said Chase. The shock in his voice was genuine. He had sensed Michael’s crush, but Chase never thought he’d actually act on it.  
“I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry,” said Michael. He ran his hands through his hair, tears began to form in his eyes. He looked like a frightened deer.  
Chase walked to the other side of the room and looked back at Michael. He could see the panic in Michael’s eyes, as well as the bubbling shame. Michael was scared and lost and alone, and Chase’s protective instincts were kicking in. Wary of the mixed message it would send, Chase went over to Michael and wrapped his arms around him. All we wanted was to be a comfort to his friend in need.  
“It’s OK. It’s OK,” said Chase. He kissed the top of Michael’s head.  
Michael, grateful for Chase’s understanding and compassion, put his arms around Chase’s broad shoulders. Michael’s head fit nicely into the crook of Chase’s shoulder. Chase smiled when he realized what this would look like if someone were to walk in on this moment. They’d look like a couple. A hot couple, Chase had to admit. He chuckled to himself. He did not want to let Michael go. What a hot couple they would make, Chase thought again. He couldn’t shake the thought loose, it was like when you get sand stuck in your shoes.  
…  
For the first time, Chase allowed himself to think about what it would be like to fuck Michael. To dominate Michael. To have Michael beg to be dominated by him. To be able to make Michael feel any emotion he wanted just by the bends of his body. The thought aroused him, there was no denying that. Michael could feel the hardness of Chase’s erection through the fabric of his boxer briefs. Chase, kind rational Chase, thought of the pros to this situation: he could relieve some stress (sex always did that for him), he could comfort Michael the way a man ought to be comforted when he’s feeling down. Then he thought of the cons: Willow. She was probably off somewhere right now trying to decide which man she wants to be with. Chase did not want to hurt her, but he knew on some level, her indecision was a decision in and of itself. She was actively choosing to stay married. He banished thoughts of Willow from his mind. With his hand, he lifted up Michael’s chin and kissed him.  
The second kiss was more passionate than their nervous first. Michael’s hands did what they had secretly been wanting to do since Chase opened the door, and systematically touched Chase’s magnificent body. His hands started at Chase’s neck, his broad shoulders, then moved to his chest, his chiseled abdomen, his strong hips and remarkable ass. Then, Michael broke away from Chase’s lips and his mouth followed the path that had just been charted by his hands, kissing all the way down Chase’s body. When he arrived at Chase’s bulge, he poked it with his fingers, which he thought was a playful gesture. Then he kissed it through the black fabric and could feel the anticipatory heat rising from beneath.  
Something Michael had learned from his years as being the CEO of ELQ was how to draw investors in during a presentation. And that involved delaying satisfaction. So, before Chase even had a chance to remove his boxer briefs, Michael stood up and backed away from the other man. Chased looked at him with those puppy dog eyes, but Michael knew what he was doing. He began slowly undoing the buttons on his shirt, never breaking eye contact with Chase. He was grateful for the experience he gained doing the strip tease numbers in the Nurses Ball. He sometimes wondered if he should call Lucy Coe and thank her for that.  
By the time Michael’s shirt had fallen to the floor, Chase was becoming impatient. He moved towards Michael and kissed his chest. Michael began to undo his pants zipper, and Chase helped him pull them all the way down. Michael stepped out of them and two resumed kissing, each one’s hands on the other’s ass.  
Michael returned to his knees and Chase slipped out his boxer briefs. Michael was almost taken aback by the sight of a fully nude Chase. He was a perfect example of the male species. He couldn’t be more perfect if Michelangelo had sculpted him. Michael took Chase’s cock in his hand and began sucking. The cock was bigger than Michael’s, but not intimidatingly so. Michael, who had never done this before, found he enjoyed having Chase inside his mouth. But what he enjoyed even more was Chase tugging on his hair and the little “Oh, yeah, that’s it”s that spilled out between breaths. It was like getting a reassuring pat on the back, a million times over.  
After a few minutes of sucking, Michael looked up at Chase.  
“Fuck me,” he whispered. Chase nodded and helped Michael stand up. Michael slipped out of his underpants, while Chase watched and remained silent. There was a brief hesitation, as if the men were thinking if Chase would suck Michael’s dick, but they wordlessly agreed to move on to the anal stuff. Sex was always full of those kind of implicit negiotations.  
They moved to Chase’s bedroom, where Michael laid on his back on the bed. Chase, standing next to the bed, bent down and kissed Michael again.  
“I’ll go slow,” said Chase. “Tell me if it hurts.”  
Michael lifted his knees in the air. Chase bent down and started to tenderly lick Michael’s ass. After a few minutes, he stood up again and started preparing his cock. The first few insertions were light, done very gingerly. Michael probably could have standed more, but he let Chase set the pace. For his part, Chase wanted Michael to feel as comfortable as possible. Gradually, Chase began pushing his cock further and further in Michael’s hole, and Michael moans got correspondingly louder.  
If he was being honest, Michael would admit that it was painful. But he wasn’t focused on the pain of the process, but rather on the ecstasy of the sensation. Chase was inside of him and just knowing that put Michael in a state he had never experienced. Experiencing the fullness of the gorgeous detective, thrusting on top of him, was incredible. He had enjoyed sex before - with Abby, with Sabrina, with Kiki, with Sasha - but sex with Chase was something else. Having sex with a women always made Michael feel somehow ungenerous, as if he could never truly gage how much pleasure the woman was getting out of it. But he could feel Chase inside of him, a feeling that told him that Chase was enjoying this. Chase was fucking him, and, apparently, Chase liked fucking him. And Michael liked being fucked by Chase. He liked being fucked.  
After a while, they decided to change up the position. Michael got on all fours and Chase hopped onto the bed and the fucking resumed. As Chase began going faster, harder - a rhythm that Michael found he preferred to slowed-down gentleness.  
“Fuck me, Chase,” Michael called out. “Fuck me harder.”  
Chase did what he was told. Chase liked knowing what Michael was thinking during sex. Michael’s body appeared incapable of lying, it told the truth in every shudder, in every muscle. Chase kissed the back of Michael’s neck, which Michael loved, so Chase did it again. Michael used one of his hands to touch himself, as he was extremely hard by this point. For as much as this encounter was about pent up passion and the pure animal heat of desire, there was a supple harmony to their bodies in motion. Michael bent when Chase needed him to, they rolled around on top of the bedsheets intiutively, gracefully even. Chase never thought fucking another guy could be described as graceful, but that’s how the two men were with each other. Their needs, their wants, their hangups, were prioritized by one another. As much as he was getting out of this, Chase made sure to remember that this started as a way to comfort Michael. And Michael found himself willing to be comforted, and also extending himself, letting himself be used by his friend for whatever end Chase wanted.  
After they both came (Chase inside of Michael), the two laid on the bed silently. They were both pleased with how that went and felt none of the expected pangs of instant regret. Michael turned to his side and looked at Chase, lying naked. Michael couldn’t believe he had never allowed himself to admit it earlier than this afternoon - not even to himself. But, it was true, Michael desired him. He craved the touch of his body. And, having now basked in the glow of that touch, he felt at ease. Desire, when it's separated from shame, is a beautiful thing. He kissed Chase’s bicep, which was the body part nearest him. Chase looked back at Michael. He was glad, giddy even, that he was there when Michael needed him. He was happy, too, to know that he could drive even an ostensibly straight guy mad with sexual desire. Chase liked knowing he held that power over people, not that he would ever take advantage of that power. Like he felt about being a cop, he had a responsibility toward other people and he took it very seriously. He was a protector.  
Outside the windows, the sky began to fade into the colors that signaled a coming sunset. Chase got out of bed and began to dress. A new pair of boxer briefs from his drawer, along with a t-shirt and sweatpants. Michael didn’t want to get up. He wanted to linger a while longer in Chase’s bed. But, when Chase informed him of the time, he remembered Willow and Wiley and all the responsibilities of the real world. So, he nakedly scurried into the living room and collected his clothes. Chase had grabbed an apple from the kitchen and was biting into it as he saw Michael to the door. Michael finished buttoning his shirt and reached for the doorknob. He looked up at Chase  
“Thanks. I needed that,” said Michael.  
“No problem,” said Chase. Michael left. Chase shut the door and continued eating his apple.


End file.
